


Light My Candle

by LadyRamora



Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy XIV, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward - Fandom, final fantasy 14 - Fandom
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Flustered Ger, Gerchefant, Haurchefant likes her round ears, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lord and Lionheart, Love Confessions, Neck Kissing, Pining, Size Difference, The Lion of House Fortemps, The Lord and His Most Loyal Knight, ear licking, hyur/elezen, leaving marks, steamy makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRamora/pseuds/LadyRamora
Summary: "How about a self indulgent thing, a nice 'date' with or without declaring it so between Ger and Haurchefant?"
Relationships: Haurchefant Greystone/Ger Lionheart, Haurchefant Greystone/Germanotta "Ger" Lionheart, Haurchefant Greystone/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Light My Candle

The candle was burning low, the flickering flame casting shadows across the report she was currently leading. The words blurring in and out of focus with the tiredness of her eyes. Ger sighs, taking a moment to rub at them, the press of her fingers an aching relief. The hour was late, long past the time she would be in bed. But it had not sat right with her to leave her lord alone to deal with this sudden influx of activity reports. The night watch had spotted no small amount of strange goings on of late, and two pairs of eyes were better than one to get to the bottom of it.

Ger jumps with the sudden thunk of something weighty dropping onto the wood of her Lord’s desk. She looks up, the sheaf of papers in her hands slipping to land in a pile to be swept to the side as she watches, bemused, as her Lord Haurchefant moves the small bit of clutter on his desk to the side and sets out cups, still steaming bowls of the stew she knew Medguistl had been prepping for bright and early that morning, and a candelabra with fresh candles that were still unlit.

Ger eyes the nondescript bottle that he had set down first, the cause of the sound that had startled her in the breaking of the quiet. “What’s all this, then?” She asks, favoring her lord with a narrow eyed stare as Haurchefant lights the candelabra with that dying candle, blows the guttering candle out, and then plucks the heavy bottle up and uncorks it with his teeth. Filling the cup he had set in front of her just shy of the brim.

Haurchrfant spits the cork, a soft “puh,” of sound leaving his lips as it drops from his mouth and rolls across the floor somewhere. Unlikely to be found again. Did he intend for them to drink the whole bottle?

“We have not had time for dinner,” Haurchefant says, pouring his own glass. But his, Ger notes, is only filled to the half-way mark. “Shall we take a break and eat?”

“You’ve been gone half a bell at least,” Ger remarks pointedly, lifting her glass and pausing at the unmistakable potent scent of Daniffen’s joy wafting from the cup. A drink saved for special occasions.

What was he up to?

Ger sighs, deciding she did not rightly care, and raises the cup to her lips. She was overdue for a damn stiff drink. It burns like dragon fire as it goes down; settling warm in her belly and chasing away any chill she might be feeling.

Ger sets her mug asde, mostly emptied, and reaches for the bowl her lord had set in front of her.

“Ah, ah,” Haurchefant tuts, his voice right in her ear, and Ger tenses as his hands settle on her shoulders.

“It’s still too hot,” Haurchefant murmurs, his breath a warm puff of air ghosting over her ear and cheek.

Ger swallows, hands grasping at the edge of his desk. “My lord…?” What had gotten into him?

Haurchefant tsks, “You work too much, my lionheart,” and takes the knight by surprise as he digs his fingers in, kneading at muscles she had not realized were quite so sore.

Ger makes a low sound, head tipping forward as she presses her fingers into his desk.

Haurchefant sucks in air through his teeth. “So tense, so tense,” the lord comments as he works his magic on her. “Have I worked you too hard, my dear?”

Ger shakes her head, grey eyes half lidded, biting at her lip to stifle the sounds her lord was pulling from her in this unprecedented massage.

“Ah, but of course, you were never one to complain. So very dedicated..” Haurchefant chuckles gently. His thumbs digging in and making the midlander groan despite herself.

Ger’s lips part, mind whirling. What was going on? Had she fallen asleep whilst reading? There had to be a reasonable explanation for such a shift in her Lord’s behavior.

Wait. The bottle. Ger reaches for it, swishing the liquid around inside. It was already partially empty.

“My lord,” Ger growls, tipping her head back to stare up at him in disapproval. “Are you drunk?”

Haurchefant laughs. His fingertips sweeping wide, caressing her throat and along her clavicle. Large, warm; distracting.

So very distracting.

Ger swallows with that lingering caress.

“No, Ger,” her Lord laughs. Then adds with a twinkle to his eye as he bends forward to wink at her. “Not just yet, at least. Though I do seem to have lost the cork to the bottle. So, up for a bit of drinking?”

Ger stares at him, eyebrows furrowing. This was all strange. What was he up to? “…What are you doing?”

Haurchefant grins down at her. Warm and just a tad mischievous. “Can I not reward my most loyal knight with a hot meal and a stiff drink?”

“And the massage?” Ger asks, narrow eyed and suspicious. “Are you trying to butter me up? Or have you yet to confess something? Something I will mislike?”

Haurchefant hums. That mischievous expression falling to one of a more serious, thoughtful nature. His hands cup her jaw, those too blue eyes gazing down to meet grey, face softened by warm candle light. “…I am unsure,” the Lord murmurs.

His thumbs drag over her cheeks.

Despite all her careful composure, Ger cannot fight the way she shivers. How her fair skin reddens. The gentle part of her lips as she whispers, “…my lord?”

Haurchefant lowers his head.

Ger gasps as his lips brush hers, and the lord pulls back to gaze intensely into her face. “…Do you mislike it?” He asks.

She can see the questions in the wide blue of his eyes without him needing speak the words. Did he make a mistake? Had he ruined it? Should he not have kissed her?

Ger lurches upright, heart thundering as she stumbles to stand and turn to face him.

She stares at him. Haurchefant gazes helplessly back. His posture is already defeated. The way he says her name, “Ger?” soft and pleading.

“Lord Haurchefant,” she says, and winces at the way he flinches.

She pauses, touches her lips, says, “My lord…” There are so many reasons why they shouldn’t.

So many reasons. Yet she could not bring to mind even one as she looks at his face.

Her hands fist at her sides, eyes closing as she breathes deep. “…I did not.” Her voice cracks as she admits it. Allows herself to be selfish. “I do not. … Mislike it.”

She opens her eyes. To look at him, a favorite pastime. Haurchefant looks… shocked. Relieved. A slow smile chasing across his face, cracking into a wide grin. “Yes?”

Ger feels herself blush. “I should like it… very much.. if you did so again.”

Haurchefant is in her personal space in two strides of his long elezen legs. “Permission to take you into my arms, my dear?” Haurchefant about purrs into her ear, hovering just close enough that the smaller knight could feel the heat of his body.

“Granted,” Ger replies, and her voice only faintly trembles along with the rest of her body.

The lord swoops down, clutching her to him, and Ger wraps her arms around him, clinging just as tightly. His lips find hers and it is he who gasps then at the unbridled passion he is met with. The first one had counted just barely. Twas much better to have his affections returned.

The midlander gives a soft sound as the lord lifts her, seating her on his desk, and continuing to kiss her with barely a breath between them.

Ger places her hands against his chest, flushing hot as her lord tugs at the backs of her knees and presses himself between her thighs.

She pulls back, softening their kiss as she leans away. “The stew,” she says, a little breathless.

Haurchefant hums, kissing over her jaw. His lips drag over her ear, his breath hot as he murmurs, “Still much too hot.”

Ger shudders as he licks at her ear, sucking her earlobe into his mouth to nibble between his teeth. She covers her mouth, cheeks blushing red as she tilts her head to the side. Haurchefant hums approvingly, cradling her close as he kisses down her throat and sucks marks into her skin that will be near impossible to hide.

“My lord,” his knight moans.

Haurchefant lifts his head, his eyes like a blue flame as he frowns disapprovingly and corrects her. “I should like to hear you call me by my name as your lover.”

Get about chokes. Lover? “My lord..!”

Haurchefant tuts. “What was that?”

Ger bites her lip, eyelashes fluttering, and then says quietly, “… Haurchefant.”

Haurchefant beams, cupping her face in his hands as he brushes their noses together. Gazing deep into her eyes as he croons, “Yes, my dear?”

Ger’s mouth works soundlessly. What… What had she meant to say?

Haurchefant grins roguishly. “Have I rendered you speechless, my lionheart?”

Ger pushes him back, frowning and breathing deep. He was too close. She could not think with him crowding against her all smiling lips and too blue eyes. His familiar scent filling her nose and fogging her brain.

“We have work to do.” She says lamely.

Haurchefant looks at her steadily. Then sighs. He steps back, muttering, “Very well,” and flops into her empty chair.

Ger frowns, still sitting on his desk. She hops down, and gives a yelp as the lord pulls her quite abruptly into his lap, sideways.

“Indulge me this,” the lord huffs, holding her captive in his arms as she tries to squirm out of his lap.

“Indulging you is all I do,” Ger retorts, huffing. She could break free if she really wanted to. But she would be lying to say some part of her was not enjoying this.

Haurchefant makes a show of whining, “Gerrrr,” and clutching her to him. “Will you not compromise? If I cannot kiss you, at least let me hold you!”

Ger rolls her eyes reflexively as he whines her name, but ceases her struggling with a theatrical sigh.

“Fine.”

Haurchefant makes a smug, triumphant sound in her ear.

Ger snorts and reaches for the papers that she had been looking over before her lord had made his reappearance.

Haurchefant captures her hand. “None of that! We eat first, then work. Or would you have the stew Medguistl worked so hard on grow cold and go to waste?”

“Even cold, I would eat it,” Ger replies, just to be ornery.

Haurchefant huffs a warm puff of air against her neck. “Well, tonight you will have it hot,” the lord says with humor, grasping her spoon and scooping up some stew to bring to her lips.

Ger eyes the spoon, flustered. Did he truly mean to feed her?

“Open up,” Haurchefant coos, saccharine sweet.

Ger exhales a sigh through her nose and opens her mouth. The stew is still thankfully warm, though she can hardly register the delicate marrying of flavors as she sits on her lord’s lap and is fed spoonful after spoonful.

Haurchefant radiates such happiness from something so simple. Her heart aches with the fondness she feels for him.

Soon enough her bowl is empty, and Ger reaches for the one meant for Haurchefant.

She takes up his spoon and takes a bite as Haurchefant asks her with a chuckle, “Still hungry?”

Still warm enough.

She scoops up another bite and promptly feeds it to Haurchefant.

Haurchefant laughs around that mouthful. Chewing and swallowing before pecking a kiss to her cheek. “Fair is fair, I see.”

Ger feeds him another bite, quietly pleased. She cannot help but gaze at his face, unaware how very soft her own expression is. How it usually was when she took care of him, as she had often done over the years. But this, now, was different.

She can still feel his kiss lingering on her lips. Sweet and filled with promise.

As Haurchefant finishes his stew, Ger grabs the bottle of daniffen’s joy and fills his cup to the brim.

“You lost the cork,” Ger says pointedly as Haurchefant grins at her crookedly.

She waits until he lifts the cup to sip from it, before saying dryly, “Drink up, lover.”

The resulting spray of alcohol is worth it for the sound of her lord’s laughter.


End file.
